How I Finally Stopped Blaming My Body For My Romantic Frustration

This was what I told myself for many years, so much so that it became a mental habit that was hard to kick.

The first step in finding love will always be knowing you are worthy of it.

Let's rewind a bit ... In my late teens and early twenties my body developed into one that wasn’t what the media considered "hot.” At least, this is what I allowed myself to believe. I was a size 12, had a forest of cellulite on the back of my thighs and “muffin top” love-handles.

As a single gal, the fact that I was "puffy" haunted me before every night out. Before I would dare attempt getting an outfit together, I would pour myself a vodka soda. Like clockwork, and after the third failed outfit, I would hear my roomie knock on the door.

“You okay in there Kel?”

“’I’m so freaking fat, I can’t deal with myself. Can I wear my yoga pants out?”

Hoping to remedy the situation, she would enter my room and hand me a shot of vodka while a Beyoncé song blasted through her computer speakers.

As the vodka kicked in, I would scavenge through the tossed pile of clothes in search of the first outfit I tried on. This outfit consisted of skinny jeans that left digging lines around my hips and a top that left nothing to the imagination. I would think to myself, “If my boobs are out, then maybe they won’t see the rest.”

Comments

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